Hello, I Love You
by Stessa
Summary: Pezberry future oneshot: "But we're just friends... Rachel. I told you that." "Friends don't sleep with each other, Santana. And most importantly, friends don't treat friends the way you've treated me."


**Hello, I Love You (Why Don't You Love Me?)**

_A Pezberry oneshot _by _Stessa_

She was wallowing in self-pity.

No. Like seriously. She was practically swimming in it. She was on her third day of lying on her couch and crying her eyes out into her puffy pink pillow. She wasn't eating anything, she was just lying there, feeling sorry for herself. When she eventually felt like she'd been too pathetic for her own good, she just got up and started to run. She'd run for two hours or more, and still she wouldn't feel like she'd gotten all of her frustrations out.

She just – her heart was _breaking_. It was literally crumbling into tiny little pieces inside of her chest, and she simply couldn't take it anymore. Nothing could cheer her up, not _West Side Story _or even Barbra Streisand in _Funny Girl_. Not even Kurt and Blaine with their vegan take-outs or attempts to get her drunk. She simply just wasn't_ happy_. And it felt like she'd never be happy again, because, well, because of...

her.

One might wonder. How on earth does one Rachel Berry end up falling in love with total bitch Santana Lopez? It sounds odd, but it wasn't even that difficult. All it took was about one look from the Latina, and she was sold.

She, Kurt and Blaine had been in New York for about two years, when they ran into them – Santana and Quinn. The two girls had just moved to the city to study, and it was a complete coincidence that they ran into them one night out. Of all the clubs in New York they could have gone to that evening, Rachel still cursed Blaine for taking them to that one. She'd bumped into the Latina – literally. She was waiting in line for the bathroom and suddenly this crazy fierce girl stormed in there and smashed right into her. Enter one Santana Lopez back in her life. Naturally they'd spent the rest of the evening catching up and whatnot. Turned out Quinn had finally given up on her Lima 'dream' with Finn and decided to get out of there. Santana's father – the doctor – had believed it was an opportunity for his daughter as well and told her to tag along and get herself educated.

After that they'd seen each other regularly. Rachel loved Kurt and Blaine dearly, but she wouldn't lie and say that she sometimes didn't miss female company, and that she often didn't feel like third wheel with the happy couple. They lived together! She was always there, and she thought they deserved some privacy. So she'd tried meeting other people, and even though she believed she'd calmed down a lot since high school, people still had a hard time getting used to her personality. So Quinn and Santana were very much welcomed back in her life, especially when she realised that they were also desperate to know more people in the city, and that they both – especially Quinn – had changed a lot since high school. The former head-cheerleader seemed to have calmed down considerably after leaving Lima; perhaps it was exactly what she'd needed. Santana was still pretty much Santana. Wrapped up in her own denial, sleeping with guys and sleeping with girls, and now – very much over Brittany, who'd been in LA since right after graduation.

But still. That didn't explain exactly how Rachel came to _love _Santana. But truth is, she made it very, very easy.

The five of them had their usual movie nights at the theatre. They'd meet there once a week and catch a movie together. It was sort of a deal they had, so they made sure to see each other. Of course Quinn and Santana saw each other all the time, as did Rachel, Kurt and Blaine, but they all felt that it was important to stay in each other's lives. Or perhaps Quinn thought it was important and dragged Santana along. Still doesn't explain how Rachel and Santana ended up there alone one Friday night about five months ago. Quinn had claimed that she'd had too much homework to do, so Santana had gone alone. Imagine Rachel's horror when she realised that Kurt and Blaine had bailed on them to have some alone time, thus leaving her alone with the fierce Latina. They'd gone anyway, and while disagreeing on possibly every film they were showing, they ended up together in an almost empty theatre, and – this was a shock to Rachel, as well – actually ended up having a pretty good time.

It had almost felt like a date, _almost_. But Rachel had decided to put that aside and told herself it wasn't, yes, she could actually live with that and be perfectly happy. That is... until Santana pushed her up against her apartment building when she'd walked her home and actually... kissed her. It had been so soft. Just lips pressing against hers, and Rachel had tentatively responded as her heart started thudding in her chest. But then she'd gone completely still when realisation had hit her, and ended up messing the entire thing up, which had caused Santana to pull back with a chuckle.

Rachel had buried her head against Santana's collarbone and cursed herself for being such a dork. The other girl had taken it like a champ, kissed her cheek and left.

And since then? Since then Santana had had this... this odd thing where she kissed her, like, all the time. Well, not _all_ the time. But whenever they had a moment alone, the Latina's mouth would somehow find its way to Rachel's and they'd be lip-locking until her lips were bruised and hurting from all the kissing. And it had been fun – although confusing – for a while, because Rachel hadn't really dated anyone since she broke up with Finn, and she'd literally only had sex one time (it was with Puck, before she left for New York; she'd asked him if he wanted to, because for some reason... she didn't want to leave Lima and take over the world without taking that step first). Suddenly she felt this bubbling excitement in the pit of her stomach, and she suddenly felt aroused, which wasn't something she'd experienced often. Yet this thing with Santana, it wasn't really.. well, it wasn't really anything. And it confused the hell out of her.

They'd just been kissing, kissing whenever it was possible. And then one day... she and Santana had gone with Kurt and Blaine to a gay club (Quinn had opted to stay home for this one, she'd met this guy in school and would be spending the night with him), and when Blaine and Kurt had left to go home and do, well, each other, Santana had practically attacked her on the dance floor, and... one thing led to another, and by the end of the night, Rachel had found herself with Santana's head between her legs. She'd gone to a place she'd never thought she'd be, and the feeling that filled her afterwards... it had been absolutely wonderful. Since then, they'd pretty much been hooking up whenever they felt like it.

Which was why Rachel was now this pathetic excuse of a human being, because she knew that Santana was hooking up with other people (yes, other people, as in _plural_), too. And why was she doing that when Rachel was so hopelessly, desperately in love with her now?

It was such an odd predicament. She loved Santana Lopez, but oh Holy Streisand, she _hated_ her, too. Sometimes she got so sucked into the feeling of absolutely loathing her, that she just wanted to never see her again. She had this constant fight with herself – she wanted to have her so badly, but she also knew that it would never be an option, so she might as well hate her – get out now and never look back. Why couldn't she do that – why couldn't she just pretend that they were never something more and just be friends with her?

Because she loved her, that's why.

Rachel turned over on her other side and hugged her pillow closer. She'd tried venting her feelings onto paper to make some sort of hit song now that she was feeling like this, but as she'd been scribbling everything that she felt inside down, her tears had blurred her vision and ended up destroying her words. She couldn't even remember what she wrote in the first place, because she had so many conflicting feelings rushing around inside of her chest.

There was a knock on the apartment door and Rachel felt her breath catch in her throat. Somehow, she hoped it was Santana coming to see her. The Latina knew that Kurt and Blaine were out for the day, and Rachel had texted her earlier to say that she wasn't feeling so good, and she'd just like to see her. She'd never received a reply and Rachel knew that Santana just didn't care (well, perhaps she did care, but she'd never been good at dealing with emotions, so she always opted to pretend that everything was fine). Who could possibly be at the door then? Rachel turned over on her couch against and tried to brush the dried tears away from her cheeks. "Come in." she faintly yelled, before burying her head inside her pillow again.

She could hear the apartment door smack close behind her, and thirty seconds later, someone stopped in front of her. She could feel their gaze on her back, penetrating her. "You're pathetic, you know that Rachel?"

Oh. _Quinn_.

As Rachel looked op at her, the blonde girl slammed two cartons of ice cream onto the small coffee table and held out two spoons. "Cookie Dough for me, vegan ice cream for you." she explained, before lifting her leg and nudging her toe into Rachel's side, "Come one, scoot over, Rach, we need to have ourselves a little girl-talk."

Rachel heaved in a deep breath and managed to lift herself off of the couch and into a sitting position. She draped her blanket over her naked legs (she was still only wearing the t-shirt she usually slept in) and accepted the spoon that Quinn handed her. The blonde girl took a seat next to her on the couch, drawing her legs beneath herself and opened up both cartons of ice cream. She thrust one into Rachel's lap and dug her spoon into the other one.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she demanded to know then.

Rachel took a small bite of her spoonful of ice cream and blinked at her. "Doing what, Quinn?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Do you think I'm stupid or something?" she questioned, but she didn't wait for Rachel to answer (and quite honestly, the brunette had no idea what to reply to that), "Look, I _know_ you and Santana have been hooking up for like... five months or something. You go at it like bunnies and you're not exactly the quiet type, Rachel."

The diva felt her eyes go wide as she looked at her friend. "You... you know? Does Kurt and Blaine know, too?"

Quinn shook her head, "No they don't. You're always at our place, and Santana thinks she's being really sneaky about wearing your clothes, but she's not. I know these things, she's my best friend!" she explained before staring into her ice cream carton for a second, "Santana's a sweet person, she always means well when she does things. And right now, she loves spending time with you because you make her feel good, but eventually... she'll grow bored with you." she paused. "I'm not trying to upset you, I'm simply stating a fact."

Rachel swallowed and nodded her head. "I know." she heard herself whisper. She did know. It was quite obvious, actually, that she was just another lay for Santana, someone to have fun with for a while and then to be tossed aside. She'd hoped that maybe they could be different, because Santana was so different when they were alone, but... But truth was, Santana was Santana, and she wasn't going to change.

The blonde's look softened. "Yeah... And – and that's who she is. She sleeps around with everybody, she doesn't get attached because she's afraid to get heartbroken. And even if you think you can change her, you can't. Not even Brittany could." she paused again and reached a pale hand out, covering Rachel's small one with her own, "I want you to protect yourself Rachel. You can't change her... you're just gonna get your heart torn apart."

"It already is." Rachel whispered and lifted her eyes to meet Quinn's. She felt like she could be honest with her. Even if Quinn was Santana's best friend, Rachel knew that she wouldn't go running to the Latina with this information. Quinn was honestly doing this to protect her, not to upset her. And she appreciated the gesture, she really did. "I thought that – that I could maybe talk to her... tell her that what she's doing, it's hurting me. Maybe we can work something out, a – a comprise of some sort, or I-"

Quinn cut her off with a firm shake of her head. "It's a stupid idea Rachel. She'll never do that, she'll just run. If she even listens when you try to talk to her. And don't do that..." she trailed off, "Don't comprise yourself. You've never been okay with sharing someone before, you're a relationship kind of girl. You have to remember to stay true to yourself."

Rachel didn't really know what to say to that. She knew that Quinn was right – so, so right. She shouldn't have to compromise her own hopes and dreams to fit Santana's. She should find someone who wanted the same things as her, who would appreciate her all of the time, not just when it was convenient and when they felt like it. "I need to end it, don't I?"

"I would think so." Quinn murmured, watching with soft eyes as Rachel felt tears run down her cheeks again, "You don't deserve this, you deserve to be treated well. I think the best thing for you would be to get some distance from her... maybe one day you can be friends again, when you're feeling better."

The brunette took another spoonful of ice cream and closed her eyes for a second to hold back the tears, "I just – I love her, Quinn. So much it actually hurts. But I also hate her for doing this to me, for making me into this weeping mess. I've never been this upset before, and – and she did something to me. I'll never be the same again."

Quinn chuckled lowly, "One day in the future, you'll write songs about this, about this pain. It's going to do you good; you'll grow and you'll learn, Rachel. Please remember that."

The diva nodded. "You're right. You're so, so right, Quinn! I'm just not sure how I'll be able to talk to her."

The blonde girl offered her a kind smile, "Tell her that you're coming by the pick up your copy of _Funny Girl _that I borrowed from you. If you tell her that you guys need to talk, she'll go out of her way to stay out of the apartment. And then when you go to puck up _Funny Girl_, you gather all of your things, and when she asks why – because she will ask why – you tell her that you love her, and that you can't do this anymore."

Rachel thought it over for a second. Quinn knew Santana so well – she'd known her for many years, and was the best candidate to say what Santana would do. And it sounded about right in Rachel's ears, Quinn's plan. It just might work. And she couldn't just cut Santana out of her life like that, not when they shared the same friends. They needed to have this conversation, otherwise things would just go haywire. This plan sounded good and doable, although... "That sounds like a great plan, Quinn, there's just one catch..."

"And what's that?" the blonde girl asked.

"You don't have my copy of _Funny Girl_."

"I don't?" she asked, and there was a certain glint in her eye as she reached over and picked the DVD case out of the shelf, only to tug it into her purse. "Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we?"

**x**

She was really very nervous, and that said a lot. Rachel Barbra Berry _never _got nervous. Not when performing in front of thousandths of people, or even at her exams. She always just breezed through it with confidence and brilliance, coming out on top. But this... this was a very different situation, and she was not at all her usual Berry self.

Knocking on the door to Santana and Quinn's apartment, she took in a deep breath. Quinn had laid out an outfit for her before she left (to go home and sneak _Funny Girl_ into her bedroom), and Rachel had texted Santana to say that she'd be stopping by later for it, before showering and getting ready in an attempt to make herself drop-dead gorgeous. If she was going to break things off with Santana, she might as well show the other girl what she'd be missing.

The door was pulled open, and Rachel came face to face with the girl she loved. Santana looked so beautiful; her looks never ceased to amaze Rachel. Whether it was in the afterglow of sex with a sheer of sweat on her body, in a tiny dress for a night out in town, in school clothes that consisted of jeans and a top, or in her comfortable clothes, a pair of shorts and a sweater (like today), she always looked so gorgeous, as if she belonged on a runway.

The Latina gave her a small smile and pulled her in for a hug, "Hey.. it's so good to see you!" she whispered, and Rachel shivered slightly when her breath ghosted across the sensitive skin on her neck.

She also might've sniffed her slightly (her scent was so addicting), before pulling back. She had to protect herself, and getting lost in the other girl was not a part of the plan. "I just had to pick up _Funny Girl_." she quickly replied, brushing pass her and into the apartment. She threw her bag on a chair and kicked off her shoes, "Quinn has it. And I thought that since I was here, I might as well grab a few other things."

Santana looked like one big question mark, and Rachel hurried into Quinn's room (knowing she wouldn't be there), where she found her DVD laying on the bed. She grabbed it and came into the living room again, holding it up for Santana to see. "There it was. Do you... did you wash my clothes that you have?"

"What?" Santana questioned, frowning slightly, "You need it right frigging now?"

"I miss my favourite jeans skirt _and_ my _Wicked_ t-shirt!" Rachel shrieked and stomped her foot into the ground for good measure. She never even wore that _Wicked_ t-shirt because it was too long on her, but it was the principle of the thing.

Santana crossed her arms. "Your _Wicked_ t-shirt? Why?" she wanted to know in a firm voice as she zoomed her eyes in on the diva, "You know how much I love to sleep in that t-shirt! You never even wear it, because it makes you look like a toddler with boobs!"

"It's _mine._" Rachel just replied and stared right back at her.

The Latina scoffed, "_Fine_." she said, before she pushed roughly pass Rachel and went into her bedroom for the things that the brunette had requested. She came back two minutes later and dumped everything onto the floor in front of Rachel's feet. "Any more crap you want to take from me?"

Rachel hated to see that look in her eyes. She looked hurt, even though she was trying to masquerade it with anger. And because the singer loved her, it was difficult to be the one to upset her. Why did this feel like a break-up though? They were never together! She told herself to be strong. "No, not particularly, I think these are all of my things."

Santana fell back into the couch with a huff and said, "Why are you even taking these now? It's not like you're here all the damn time anyway. Why do you need it today?" she questioned and crossed one leg over the other, and even though she was staring up at her, Rachel still thought she was intimidating.

The diva knew that it was now or never, so she sat down on the coffee table and leaned over slightly, resting her chin in her hand, so she was on eye-level with the other girl, who was now right in front of her. "I'm taking my things today because... because I'm thinking that it would be best if we don't see each other anymore."

Something quite unreadable flashed through the Latina's eyes then, and she immediately pulled up her walls. "What the fuck? _Why_?" she demanded to know.

Rachel sighed. This was it. Now it was time to give the speech that she'd prepared ever since Quinn left her apartment. All the while she was showering and getting ready, she'd made mental lists of which topics she wanted to touch, and on her way over here on the subway, she'd even planned out where to begin and how to end. So it was now or never. "Santana..." she whispered, locking her eyes with the other girl's, "I have something I need to tell you, and it'd be a delight if you'd just listen and try not to interrupt..."

The other girl nodded, her brow furrowed.

"I love you." Rachel begun, a soft smile spreading across her face, as she opened up and really said the words she'd been feeling for the past two months, "Santana you're... you're fantastic. But you're also a very flawed person. I don't love you in spite of all those flaws, but _because_ of them. You're impossible, you curse everytime you open your mouth, and you add S's where they're not supposed to be. You don't really know what you want to do with your life, and you spend all your money on bling and alcohol within the first week of the month. You can't talk about your feelings, at all, actually, I think you're afraid of _having_ feelings. You sleep with so many people, that's it's a miracle you haven't gotten pregnant or contracted an STD. You can't control your anger, and you're not a very nice person, not even to your friends, but..."

Rachel paused and drew in a shaky breath. She could tell that Santana was getting impatient and slightly annoyed (possibly because Rachel was listing off all of her bad sides), so she knew she had to get to it.

"But I still love you. I love you because of your imperfections. They make you who you are – they make you _you_." she bit her lip slightly and willed herself to go on, even though this was breaking her apart, and the tears were threatening to spill, "You're such a unique person, there's no one else out there quite like you, and... and I love that about you. I love you so much."

Santana's look softened a little bit. "I love you too, Rachel, you know that. We're friends, I care about all of my friends like that."

_Friends._ That word was going to kill her one day, Rachel was sure of it.

She continued, "See that's the problem," she whispered, not wanting to meet the Latina's eyes, but instead looking at everything but her; the floor, the ceiling, the ugly pillow on the couch, even the spider in the corner that neither Quinn nor Santana dared to move because it just sat there and they didn't want to touch it, "because I love you differently. I love you like, I want to lie in bed with you on a Sunday morning and snuggle up to you, like I want to invite you out for dinner and treat you right. I love you like I want to take you home after a night out and be honest to my friends about it, like I want to hold your hand at the club so people know you're off limits. I love you so much that I want to call you my girlfriend, run my fingers through your hair and kiss you in front of my fathers, like I want to possibly have a future with you, move in with you, share my home with you, share my life... with you." she trailed off, her breath hitching roughly in her throat as the tears started running freely, quickly, down her cheeks. Her vision was blurred, and she could see the perplexed expression on Santana's face; the confusion, the resentment, the anger, the... love.

The Latina opened her mouth to speak, but Rachel held a hand up to silence her. "Don't. Don't say a thing, because I already know it. We were nothing serious, you told me that countless of times. You're sleeping with other people, and you're not gay. I've heard it all before, but-" she screwed her eyes shut for a second, before looking directly at the other girl, "-you broke my heart... Santana... it's literally nothing inside my chest. And you're the reason I've been so sad lately, because you upset me."

"I upset you?" the other girl hoarsely whispered, her voice rasp and almost none-existent. "I … I didn't know."

Rachel shook her head, "Of course you didn't, because you can't see what's right in front of you, you don't even notice what you do to other people. It's like their feelings aren't even on your radar."

Santana just licked her lips and stared at her with wide eyes.

"I love you, Santana, but I hate you, too."

"I'm sorry."

"I hate myself for falling for this with you, for letting you back into my life, and for letting things get out of hand." Rachel continued, rattling it all off; she knew that she didn't have to say all of these things, because it wasn't necessary. But she also knew that she'd feel better if she did – she'd get it all off her chest and perhaps have the strength to move on. "I can't... I can't do this with you anymore, because I'm not happy."

Santana shrugged her shoulders, "But we're just friends... Rachel. I told you that."

Rachel sighed. "Friends don't sleep with each other, Santana. And most importantly, friends don't treat friends the way you've treated me."

There was a long silence where the two of them just sort of looked at each other. Santana was breathing in and out, Rachel could see her chest rise and fall with each breath, as she looked at her, unmoving. The diva was still crying; her heart was breaking, but she also felt relieved. Relieved because she'd finally said all of the things she'd been holding in for so long.

"I don't know what you want me to say..." Santana then whispered, her expression blank.

And that? That was the last straw for Rachel. Santana had nothing to say to this, no explanation, no response; she didn't even feel the least bit guilty. That was when the diva knew she'd made the right decision. "Fine." she whispered, pushing herself off the table and moving to gather her things, "Just fine. You know what? I'm going to go home."

The Latina shot off the couch quickly and stepped around the table, "When will I see you again?"

Rachel glared at her, "Not for a while, I can't... I can't be around you, because you're hurting me." she firmly said, before she stuck her feet into her boots again and went into the tiny hallway. Quinn's shoes were stacked neatly by one side of the door, and all of Santana's were lying in one giant messy pile on the other side. Rachel angrily kicked a sandal aside before struggling to open the door with her elbow.

"Rachel-" Santana chocked out.

The brunette froze there, with one foot in the hallway, the other inside the apartment and paused. She didn't turn to look at the Latina, she just stopped. There was a faint hope inside her chest; a hope of possibly hearing the other girl utter the words she'd longed to hear, the words telling her that there'd be no more other people, that she wanted to give them a real shot. But there was nothing, just silence. "Yes?" she whispered, her gaze moving to the dirty hallway floor.

"I want my things from your apartment, too."

Rachel swallowed again and heard her heart break just a little bit more. "Pick them up when I'm at work tomorrow." she whispered, before she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

She wasn't happy again, not by a long shot, but for the first time in a few months, she felt like she could finally breathe again.

_Hello everyone! Thank you so much for tuning into this little (very short) Pezberry one-shot! I've been visiting the land of Faberry lately (which I'll be returning to, now that I got this little plot-bunny out of my head), but this idea just screamed Pezberry to me! _

_Actually – this is very personal, because I've just been through this entire thing, with a 'friend' of mine. I was Rachel in this scenario, and it's a sucky feeling. All of her friends told me to forget about it and to protect myself, because I wouldn't be able to change her. So I made the hard decision to gather my things, tell her how I feel and flee. I haven't talked to her in a few weeks now, and already I feel much happier, even though I miss her like crazy and want to call her. I actually ended up deleting her number from my phone, just so I wouldn't be tempted. This was sort of just kind of like therapy for me, I guess. _

_So! I hope you liked it – I know it wasn't happy Pezberry, but every good couple needs a little angst once in a while, and let's face it, Santana could (and would probably) pull this move. That's just who she is. Please leave me your thoughts? _

_**Disclaimer; ** I don't own Glee! _


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